A Gift from a Sergeant
by Canadian Hogan's Fan
Summary: When Hilda helps her friend bring Christmas to a Catholic orphanage, she receives an unexpected Christmas surprise of her own.


If Kommandant Klink's jaw had dropped any further, it would have hit his desk. As it was, it made a good flytrap.

"How much money do you want?" he asked, his monocle threatening to pop out of his right eye.

I dropped my gaze to the floor, hoping the gesture would have the same effect on him it'd had on hundreds of men before him. "I know 100 Reichsmarks is quite a lot of money, but I'd hoped you could find it in your large, generous heart to loan it to me, especially with Christmas being so close."

The Kommandant gripped his desk, a Scrooge-worthy scowl spreading across his face. "My heart may be generous, but not 100 Reichsmarks worth of generous," he muttered.

My voice rose in panic. "Please, Herr Kommandant, the orphans really need it. Even if you could advance that much of my salary, I would be eternally grateful."

He folded his hands. "Fraulein Hilda, I'd like to help, but I simply cannot lend you that kind of money. It's against regulations."(1)

I bit my lip, trying to swallow my disappointment. "I understand perfectly." _I'd bet you'd give it to me if my name was General __Burkhalter or Major Hochstetter._ "Perhaps you could donate some food instead."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I have nothing to spare."

"But…."

He grabbed a pen and pressed it to his paper work. "Dismissed!"

I retreated to his office door and took great pleasure in slamming it shut before returning to my desk.

"Everything alright?"

I met Colonel Hogan's puzzled stare and managed a small smile. "Everything's fine. Take my advice, though, Colonel, if you want anything from the Kommandant, forget it. He's not in a very charitable mood today."

He tipped his cap brim back. "What did you ask him for?"

"A hundred Reichsmarks."

The colonel whistled. "That's a lot of money."

"Not if you're buying a Christmas dinner big enough to feed 50 mouths," I grumbled, turning away when he closed in to steal a kiss.

Colonel Hogan frowned. "What?"

I sat down and retrieved a ball of yarn and needles from my purse, hope filling me as I turned my charms on the hero of most of my fantasies. "I don't suppose you'd be able to lend me that much."

"No, but if I hear of anyone who does, I'll let you know." He pointed at the stitches I'd completed. "Making dish cloths for your future mother in-law?"

I shook my head. "Doll clothes for some children in town."

The colonel waved. "Don't tire out your fingers. Klink might need something typed up later."

I repeated his sentence in a snide voice as he opened the Kommandant's door. "They're already tired." My hands spasmed, sending the needles clattering to the floor. "_Verdammt_!"

That's what happens when you sit up half the night helping Sister Gretchen finish the girl's presents, I thought, fighting fatigue as I bent over to retrieve them.

oOo

"My dear Hilda," Sister Gretchen said, her face glowing in the dim candlelight bathing one of the orphanage's backrooms. "I can't thank you enough for your help with finishing the children's _C__hristkind_(2) gifts."

"Especially since you haven't been to mass in months," a willowy nun in the far corner sniped.

Sister Claudette, who sat on my left, narrowed her eyes. "Mind your manners, Sister Felda. We accept everyone who wants to help us." She hiccuped. "Including chubby French nuns, such as myself, who transferred here before the war."

Sister Felda strode over and snatched my companion's needles away. "Look at all the knots in this! I can't tell what it's supposed to be anymore."

Sister Claudette grabbed it back. "What are you talking about? I would be honoured to receive such a fine dress for my doll!"

Sister Felda snorted. "No sober person would consider this fit to give to a dog." She made a great show of sniffing the air. "Have you been drinking the sacramental wine again?"

"Enough." Sister Gretchen murmured, so softly I wouldn't have heard her if she hadn't been sitting on my other side. Regardless, as soon as she spoke, Sister Felda scuttled away, muttering an apology. I stifled a laugh. My mother had the same tone whenever my brothers and I misbehaved.

Sister Gretchen looked back at me. "As I was saying, we have so many orphans to make gifts for now, we wouldn't have been able to finish them in time without your help." She sighed. "I don't know how we're going to afford dinner, though. We haven't raised half the money we need to and the food shortage is driving the prices up." She yanked a stubborn piece of yarn into place. "You wouldn't believe what the black market wants for _Weihnachtsgans_.(3) And they won't budge on the price, no matter how much I plead with them."

"Sister Gretchen," Sister Felda interjected. "Your friend works at the prison camp, doesn't she? Maybe she can get the Kommandant to donate."

I stopped knitting. "I don't know," I stammered. "The Kommandant says the camp's resources are stretched awfully thin."

Sister Gretchen placed her hand on mine. "I hate to ask, but we're desperate. Will you help us?"

I looked at her sad blue eyes and her face, already lined from too much worrying. The words were out of my mouth before I realized I was speaking. "Of course. I could never refuse my oldest and dearest friend. I will get the money from the Kommandant tomorrow."

oOo

Now, as I rubbed my sore hands after Kommandant Klink dismissed me for the day, I realized how stupid I'd been, making promises I couldn't keep. _I knew he wouldn't part with that much money, and I've already asked everyone I can think of for a loan. What will Sister Gretchen think if all I can give her is a few marks out of my own pocket? _I rose from my chair and collected my things for the trip home. _I can't let her down. I must think of something. _I buttoned my coat and braced myself when I opened the outer office door to the damp air outside.

I hurried toward the front gate, nodding to a couple of passing guards when a wind gust blew from behind, chilling me. _I've already used the nylons, chocolate and coffee Colonel Hogan gave me for Christmas gifts, so I can't even give her that to trade on the black market. _My mind raced as I ducked behind the office for a reprieve from the elements._ What else can I do?_

I paused when I noticed the camp's food storeroom to my right.(4) _Surely the prisoners wouldn't miss a few things, especially if they knew who the food would feed._

I forced myself to walk away. _Don't think such crazy thoughts. You'd lose your job if __someone caught you. Surely, there's another way._

I turned back. _There isn't._ _I've already tried everything I can think of. _

I remembered the children's faces the first time I'd visited the orphanage. The suffering in their eyes was enough to melt the coldest heart. I couldn't bear thinking of them with empty bellies at Christmas. Before I lost my nerve, I went to the door and turned the knob. The supply room, thankfully, was unlocked and unoccupied.

My heart sank. It would've been empty if there hadn't been a few bags of rotting potatoes and moldy bread. "This is hardly worth stealing," I muttered, shoveling handfuls of potatoes into my purse. "Still, it's better than nothing."

I sorted through the bread until I found a few edible pieces, then tidied up. Once finished, I opened the door slowly and peeked around it to make sure no one had seen me, before closing it behind me.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

I jumped, dropping my purse, which opened and sent a few potatoes flying. I raised my hands and faced _Oberfeldwebel_ Schultz and the rifle he aimed at my chest. I'm not sure who was more startled, he or I.

"Fraulein Hilda?" he asked, his eyes wide.

I put my hands on my hips. "Sergeant, have you no manners! You scared me half to death with that growl of yours."

He stared at my purse. "What is this? Stealing food?" He shook his head. "Oh, Fraulein, you shouldn't have done such a thing, especially at Christmas. What would the Kommandant say? What would the prisoners think?"

I fought back tears, thinking of how ashamed Gretchen would be if she could see me now. "Nothing good, I'm sure."

"Actually, you did us a favour," an American voice behind _Oberfeldwebel_ Schultz said. I peeked over the guard's shoulder at Sergeants Kinchloe and Carter. Usually, seeing a Negro prisoner made me feel uneasy, as I remembered all the stories I'd heard about how barbaric their people were. Yet, I was grateful to see him now.

"Yeah," Sergeant Carter added. "The food's terrible. Anyone who wants my share can have it."

_Oberfeldwebel_ Schultz rolled his eyes. "Please stay out of this. I have to report her to the Kommandant."

Sergeant Kinchloe shrugged. "Okay, if that's the way you want it. It's just that Santa Claus happens to be French this year, and if he hears you've been reporting people, he might be inclined to burn your Christmas present."

_Oberfeldwebel_ Schultz closed his eyes, licking his lips. "It wouldn't happen to have apples in it, would it? And that pastry I like so much?"

Sergeant Kinchloe nodded. "And it's even better than how your mother used to make it."

_Oberfeldwebel_ Schultz took a deep breath. "Alright." He pointed to me. "But you must put the food back. And if I catch you again, I'll have no choice but to report you."

I nodded. "Danke."

_Oberfeldwebel_ Schultz retuned his rifle to his shoulder and marched off. I released my held breath and reached for my purse.

Sergeant Carter knelt to help me pick up the potatoes. "Gee, you're going to have to get some lessons from Newkirk before you try something like this again."

Sergeant Kinchloe joined us and slipped a moldy one into his pocket. "You could do better, you know. What do you want this stuff for anyway?"

"A very special Christmas dinner." I shivered. "I guess it was very stupid of me to steal all this because it's not enough anyway." I lowered my voice. "Can you keep a secret?"

Sergeant Carter's face brightened. "Boy, can we ever."

I laughed despite myself. "A friend of mine, Sister Gretchen, runs the orphanage in Düsseldorf. She asked me to get money from the Kommandant so she could buy food for the children from the black market. The Kommandant wouldn't loan it to me, so I did the only thing I could think of." I fought back an errant tear. "Ironic, isn't it? Stealing for a church at Christmas."

A smile tugged at Sergeant Kinchloe's lips. "Don't worry Fraulein, your secret is in good hands. Right, Carter?"

The other sergeant helped me up. "Right. Don't worry about the mess. We'll take care of it."

I shook their hands. "Danke, gentlemen, I appreciate your kindness." _I just wish I knew what to tell Sister Gretchen._

oOo

To Sister Gretchen's credit, she took it well when I told her what happened.

"Don't worry, Hilda," she said. "We'll find a way."

Unfortunately, the best she could manage was a few vegetables and a small chicken. I couldn't help feeling guilty about accepting her invitation to Christmas dinner when I saw the children's grateful, yet disappointed faces after she finished the blessing and told us to eat. The meal was stretched thin enough as it was without me.

"Halt!"

I turned in the direction of the familiar voice and saw my employer's balding head. "Kommandant Klink!" I gasped. "What are you doing here?"

He glared at the chicken. "Putting a stop to this travesty!"

Sister Gretchen rose from her chair and fixed him with a piercing stare. "With all due respect, Colonel, you've barged in here uninvited and with a rather unchristian attitude. Please remove yourself immediately."

The Kommandant gestured to the salad with his riding crop. "I've never seen a meal so unworthy of Christmas. You sisters ought to be ashamed of yourselves."

"Colonel, I asked you to leave," my friend snarled. "If you don't, I'll call the authorities and have you thrown out. Am I making myself clear?"

I gasped. I'd never seen her so angry.

The Kommandant opened his arms. "Come now, a woman such as yourself shouldn't act that way, especially at this time of year. And, especially since I've brought a special guest with me." He stood aside and cupped a hand to his mouth. "Schul…, I mean _Weihnachtsmann_!(5)"

A large figure in a red and white coat that looked more American than German stepped around Kommandant Klink. "Merry Christmas children," he bellowed, knocking the Kommandant onto his bottom with the flour sack on his shoulder. For a moment, no one knew what to say, including the Kommandant, who looked ready to send Father Christmas to the Russian Front. _Weihnachtsmann _frowned. "Now, is that anyway to greet me, especially since I made a special trip to give you these."

The children squealed and swarmed _Oberfeldwebel _Schultz as presents spilled from the bag when he set it down.

"Ho, ho, ho!" he chortled. "Don't push! There's enough presents for everyone." He motioned to four Allied helpers, who brought in more bags of toys.

Corporal LeBeau navigated through the mob of children, balancing a tray of Christmas Goose over his head before laying it on the table. "I've spent most of the day preparing this dinner for you. _Bon appetit_."

Sister Gretchen beamed while the rest of the nuns barely restrained themselves from gobbling down the food, likely the first decent meal they'd seen in months. "Bless you all. You'll never know the depths of our gratitude."

The Frenchman bowed to her. "_Merci_." He turned to his friends. "Carter! Newkirk! Help me with the rest."

While they set the table, I watched Sergeant Kinchloe offer a small silver package to a thin girl.

"It's alright, this is for you," he murmured, frowning when her lower lip trembled. "Hey, now, don't be afraid. Don't you know what day this is? It's the day Jesus was born, and, you know, His father makes people in all different colours." He sighed. "I just wish some people would remember that."

The girl hesitated, then reached for the gift.

"Sergeant," I said, approaching him once she scurried off. "Is this your idea of keeping a secret?"

Sergeant Kinchloe straightened. "I hope you don't mind, but Carter and I wanted to help." He watched _Oberfeldwebel _Schultz bounce a toddler on his knee. "Why are all the kids so shy? I thought everyone like getting presents from Santa Claus."

I smiled. "Actually, Catholic children here receive gifts from the Christ Child, and they never see any of the deliveries."

Sergeant Kinchloe shifted from side to side. "Oh, I'm sorry, we didn't realize."

I touched his sleeve. "Don't be silly. It would've been a very sad day if you hadn't intervened. Thank you."

He cocked his head to Colonel Hogan, who demonstrated the proper way to handle a baseball to a plump boy sitting next to him. "Actually, we can't take all the credit. The colonel used his sources to get the presents and Santa suit."

"The same sources that provide my nylons and coffee?"

He nodded. "He also used some local people to get the food and convinced Klink it was his idea to come here and surprise you with all of it."

Sister Claudette let off a squeaky laugh as she chatted up the Kommandant, who looked like he'd rather be in Frau Linkmeyer's company.

I glanced at _Oberfeldwebel_ Schultz, who laughed when the toddler babbled something in his ear. "He fits the part, doesn't he?"

Sergeant Kinchloe nodded. "It didn't take much to convince him to dress up, just a little extra strudel." He lowered his voice. "Personally, I think he would've done it for nothing. He was just happy for an excuse to get out of Christmas dinner at home. Apparently Mrs. Schultz invited the in-laws."

"What about you? Are you happy to be here?"

He looked away. "It gets lonely being a prisoner far from home, especially at Christmas. I think it did us all some good to do something festive."

I turned toward a group of children, who giggled when Sergeant Carter whistled while pulling a wooden train set across the floor. I blinked back tears when a few excited shouts came from a corner where Corporal Newkirk performed a card trick. _I was wrong about you, Sergeant. I'm so sorry. _"I'll never forget this night. How can I ever repay you?"

He shook his head. "Consider it your Christmas present from the guys at Stalag 13."

I nodded. "Merry Christmas Sergeant."

He smiled. "Merry Christmas Fraulein."

(1) My research told me it's illegal in the US armed forces to lend money to those under your command, so I'm operating under the assumption the Luftwaffe would've had similar regulations, even for someone like Hilda.

2) According to my research, Christkindtraditionally distributes gifts to German Catholic children at Christmas. *Amendment* Christkind is usually depicted as a child.

(3) Christmas Goose.

(4) I don't believe the food store room's location in camp is ever mentioned in the show, so I hope you'll allow me some latitude for the story's sake.

(5) Father Christmas.


End file.
